Page 128 of The Duke's Sinful Deal
The sound of the strike was sharper than expected.
It carried through the quiet in a way that drew a collective breath from those closest, the force of it enough to turn Amos’s head to the side despite the restraint placed upon him.
“This,” Arabella said, her voice steady, though it carried further than she might have intended, “was for my sister.”
The constables did not move.
Neither did Maxwell.
Amos’s gaze returned to her slowly, the earlier instability replaced now with something harder to read. He did not speak.
Arabella did not give him the opportunity.
The second strike came without hesitation.
It landed just as cleanly, the sound echoing against the stillness that had settled fully now over the promenade. One of the constables shifted at that, his grip tightening further, though he did not attempt to step between them.
“And that,” she continued, her tone no less controlled, “was for my husband.”
There was no tremor in the words.
No wavering.
Maxwell felt the shift of it, though he did not move toward her. Not yet.
The constables began to pull Amos back then, the necessity of their duty reasserting itself as the moment threatened to extend beyond what could be permitted. He did not resist them, though his attention remained fixed on Arabella until the distance forced it to break.
“You will answer for this,” one of the officers said, more for form than necessity.
Amos gave no reply.
Arabella did not follow.
She remained where she was, her posture unchanged, her gaze steady even as he was led away. It was only when the distance became sufficient that she drew a breath, the motion subtle but visible to those who watched closely.
“If you ever presumed to threaten those I care for again,” she said, though her voice no longer needed to carry, “you would find that I am capable of far more than that.”
The words did not reach him fully.
But they were not meant only for him.
The space settled again, though not as it had been before. The murmurs returned slowly, cautious now, as though uncertain how to proceed in the wake of what had just occurred.
Maxwell stepped forward at last.
He did not speak immediately. He did not need to.
Arabella turned slightly at his approach, though she did not step away, her expression still marked by the same steadiness that had carried her through the confrontation.
For a moment, they simply looked at one another.
And in that brief space, something shifted between them.
CHAPTER 29
The park did not recover at once.
Even as the constables led Amos away and the immediate threat receded into the distance, the air remained unsettled, as though the moment had left something behind that could not be easily dismissed. Conversations resumed in fragments rather than whole, voices lowered but urgent, glances lingering a moment too long before being carefully withdrawn.
